There were three of them—Jerry, Jimmy, and Kathleen. Of
course, Jerry's name was Gerald, and not Jeremiah, whatever you may
think; and Jimmy's name was James; and Kathleen was never called by
her name at all, but Cathy, or Catty, or Puss Cat, when her
brothers were pleased with her, and Scratch Cat when they were not
pleased. And they were at school in a little town in the West of
England—the boys at one school, of course, and the girl at another,
because the sensible habit of having boys and girls at the same
school is not yet as common as I hope it will be some day. They
used to see each other on Saturdays and Sundays at the house of a
kind maiden lady; but it was one of those houses where it is
impossible to play. You know the kind of house, don't you? There is
a sort of a something about that kind of house that makes you
hardly able even to talk to each other when you are left alone, and
playing seems unnatural and affected. So they looked forward to the
holidays, when they should all go home and be together all day
long, in a house where playing was natural and conversation
possible, and where the Hampshire forests and fields were full of
interesting things to do and see. Their Cousin Betty was to be
there too, and there were plans. Betty's school broke up before
theirs, and so she got to the Hampshire home first, and the moment
she got there she began to have measles, so that my three couldn't
go home at all. You may imagine their feelings. The thought of
seven weeks at Miss Hervey's was not to be borne, and all three
wrote home and said so. This astonished their parents very much,
because they had always thought it was so nice for the children to
have dear Miss Hervey's to go to. However, they were "jolly decent
about it," as Jerry said, and after a lot of letters and telegrams,
it was arranged that the boys should go and stay at Kathleen's
school, where there were now no girls left and no mistresses except
the French one."It'll be better than being at Miss Hervey's," said Kathleen,
when the boys came round to ask Mademoiselle when it would be
convenient for them to come; "and, besides, our school's not half
so ugly as yours. We do have tablecloths on the tables and curtains
at the windows, and yours is all deal boards, and desks, and
inkiness."When they had gone to pack their boxes Kathleen made all the
rooms as pretty as she could with flowers in jam jars, marigolds
chiefly, because there was nothing much else in the back garden.
There were geraniums in the front garden, and calceolarias and
lobelias; of course, the children were not allowed to pick
these."We ought to have some sort of play to keep us going through
the holidays," said Kathleen, when tea was over, and she had
unpacked and arranged the boys' clothes in the painted chests of
drawers, feeling very grown-up and careful as she neatly laid the
different sorts of clothes in tidy little heaps in the drawers.
"Suppose we write a book.""You couldn't," said Jimmy."I didn't mean me, of course," said Kathleen, a little
injured; "I meant us.""Too much fag," said Gerald briefly."If we wrote a book," Kathleen persisted, "about what the
insides of schools reallyarelike, people would read it and say how clever we
were.""More likely expel us," said Gerald. "No; we'll have an
out-of-doors game—bandits, or something like that. It wouldn't be
bad if we could get a cave and keep stores in it, and have our
meals there.""There aren't any caves," said Jimmy, who was fond of
contradicting every one. "And, besides, your precious Mamselle
won't let us go out alone, as likely as not.""Oh, we'll see about that," said Gerald. "I'll go and talk to
her like a father.""Like that?" Kathleen pointed the thumb of scorn at him, and
he looked in the glass."To brush his hair and his clothes and to wash his face and
hands was to our hero but the work of a moment," said Gerald, and
went to suit the action to the word.It was a very sleek boy, brown and thin and
interesting-looking, that knocked at the door of the parlour where
Mademoiselle sat reading a yellow-covered book and wishing vain
wishes. Gerald could always make himself look interesting at a
moment's notice, a very useful accomplishment in dealing with
strange grown-ups. It was done by opening his grey eyes rather
wide, allowing the corners of his mouth to droop, and assuming a
gentle, pleading expression, resembling that of the late little
Lord Fauntleroy—who must, by the way, be quite old now, and an
awful prig."Entrez!" said Mademoiselle, in shrill French accents. So he
entered."Eh bien?" she said rather impatiently."I hope I am not disturbing you," said Gerald, in whose
mouth, it seemed, butter would not have melted."But no," she said, somewhat softened. "What is it that you
desire?""I thought I ought to come and say how do you do," said
Gerald, "because of you being the lady of the house."He held out the newly-washed hand, still damp and red. She
took it."You are a very polite little boy," she said."Not at all," said Gerald, more polite than ever. "I am so
sorry for you. It must be dreadful to have us to look after in the
holidays.""But not at all," said Mademoiselle in her turn. "I am sure
you will be very good childrens."Gerald's look assured her that he and the others would be as
near angels as children could be without ceasing to be
human."We'll try," he said earnestly."Can one do anything for you?" asked the French governess
kindly."Oh, no, thank you," said Gerald. "We don't want to give you
any trouble at all. And I was thinking it would be less trouble for
you if we were to go out into the woods all day to-morrow and take
our dinner with us—something cold, you know—so as not to be a
trouble to the cook.""You are very considerate," said Mademoiselle coldly. Then
Gerald's eyes smiled; they had a trick of doing this when his lips
were quite serious. Mademoiselle caught the twinkle, and she
laughed and Gerald laughed too."Little deceiver!" she said. "Why not say at once you want to
be free ofsurveillance, how
you say—overwatching—without pretending it is me you wish to
please?""You have to be careful with grown-ups," said Gerald, "but it
isn't all pretence either. Wedon'twant to trouble you—and we don't want you to——"
"LITTLE DECEIVER!" SHE SAID.
"To trouble you. Eh bien! Your parents, they permit
these days at woods?""Oh, yes," said Gerald truthfully."Then I will not be more a dragon than the parents. I will
forewarn the cook. Are you content?""Rather!" said Gerald. "Mademoiselle, you are a
dear.""A deer?" she repeated—"a stag?""No, a—achérie," said
Gerald—"a regular A1chérie.
And you shan't repent it. Is there anything we can do for you—wind
your wool, or find your spectacles, or——?""He thinks me a grandmother!" said Mademoiselle, laughing
more than ever. "Go then, and be not more naughty than you
must."* * * * *"Well, what luck?" the others asked."It's all right," said Gerald indifferently. "I told you it
would be. The ingenuous youth won the regard of the foreign
governess, who in her youth had been the beauty of her humble
village.""I don't believe she ever was. She's too stern," said
Kathleen."Ah!" said Gerald, "that's only because you don't know how to
manage her. She wasn't stern withme.""I say, what a humbug you are though, aren't you?" said
Jimmy."No, I'm a dip—what's-its-name? Something like an ambassador.
Dipsoplomatist—that's what I am. Anyhow, we've got our day, and if
we don't find a cave in it my name's not Jack
Robinson."Mademoiselle, less stern than Kathleen had ever seen her,
presided at supper, which was bread and treacle spread several
hours before, and now harder and drier than any other food you can
think of. Gerald was very polite in handing her butter and cheese,
and pressing her to taste the bread and treacle."Bah! it is like sand in the mouth—of a dryness! Is it
possible this pleases you?""No," said Gerald, "it is not possible, but it is not polite
for boys to make remarks about their food!"She laughed, but there was no more dried bread and treacle
for supper after that."Howdoyou do it?"
Kathleen whispered admiringly as they said good-night."Oh, it's quite easy when you've once got a grown-up to see
what you're after. You'll see, I shall drive her with a rein of
darning cotton after this."Next morning Gerald got up early and gathered a little bunch
of pink carnations from a plant which he found hidden among the
marigolds. He tied it up with black cotton and laid it on
Mademoiselle's plate. She smiled and looked quite handsome as she
stuck the flowers in her belt."Do you think it's quite decent," Jimmy asked later—"sort of
bribing people to let you do as you like with flowers and things
and passing them the salt?""It's not that," said Kathleen suddenly. "Iknow what Gerald means, only I never
think of the things in time myself. You see, if you want grown-ups
to be nice to you the least you can do is to be nice to them and
think of little things to please them. I never think of any myself.
Jerry does; that's why all the old ladies like him. It's not
bribery. It's a sort of honesty—like paying for
things.""Well, anyway," said Jimmy, putting away the moral question,
"we've got a ripping day for the woods."They had.The wide High Street, even at the busy morning hour almost as
quiet as a dream-street, lay bathed in sunshine; the leaves shone
fresh from last night's rain, but the road was dry, and in the
sunshine the very dust of it sparkled like diamonds. The beautiful
old houses, standing stout and strong, looked as though they were
basking in the sunshine and enjoying it."Butarethere any woods?"
asked Kathleen as they passed the market-place."It doesn't much matter about woods," said Gerald dreamily,
"we're sure to findsomething.
One of the chaps told me his father said when he was a boy there
used to be a little cave under the bank in a lane near the
Salisbury Road; but he said there was an enchanted castle there
too, so perhaps the cave isn't true either.""If we were to get horns," said Kathleen, "and to blow them
very hard all the way, we might find a magic castle.""If you've got the money to throw away on horns ..." said
Jimmy contemptuously."Well, I have, as it happens, so there!" said Kathleen. And
the horns were bought in a tiny shop with a bulging window full of
a tangle of toys and sweets and cucumbers and sour
apples.And the quiet square at the end of the town where the church
is, and the houses of the most respectable people, echoed to the
sound of horns blown long and loud. But none of the houses turned
into enchanted castles.So they went along the Salisbury Road, which was very hot and
dusty, so they agreed to drink one of the bottles of
gingerbeer."We might as well carry the gingerbeer inside us as inside
the bottle," said Jimmy, "and we can hide the bottle and call for
it as we come back."Presently they came to a place where the road, as Gerald
said, went two ways at once."Thatlooks like
adventures," said Kathleen; and they took the right-hand road, and
the next time they took a turning it was a left-hand one, so as to
be quite fair, Jimmy said, and then a right-hand one and then a
left, and so on, till they were completely lost."Completely," said
Kathleen; "how jolly!"And now trees arched overhead, and the banks of the road were
high and bushy. The adventurers had long since ceased to blow their
horns. It was too tiring to go on doing that, when there was no one
to be annoyed by it."Oh, kriky!" observed Jimmy suddenly, "let's sit down a bit
and have some of our dinner. We might call it lunch, you know," he
added persuasively.So they sat down in the hedge and ate the ripe red
gooseberries that were to have been their dessert.And as they sat and rested and wished that their boots did
not feel so full of feet, Gerald leaned back against the bushes,
and the bushes gave way so that he almost fell over backward.
Something had yielded to the pressure of his back, and there was
the sound of something heavy that fell."O Jimminy!" he remarked, recovering himself suddenly;
"there's something hollow in there—the stone I was leaning against
simplywent!""I wish it was a cave," said Jimmy; "but of course it
isn't.""If we blow the horns perhaps it will be," said Kathleen, and
hastily blew her own.Gerald reached his hand through the bushes. "I can't feel
anything but air," he said; "it's just a hole full of emptiness."
The other two pulled back the bushes. There certainly was a hole in
the bank. "I'm going to go in," observed Gerald."Oh, don't!" said his sister. "I wish you wouldn't. Suppose
there were snakes!""Not likely," said Gerald, but he leaned forward and struck a
match. "Itisa cave!" he cried,
and put his knee on the mossy stone he had been sitting on,
scrambled over it, and disappeared.A breathless pause followed."You all right?" asked Jimmy."Yes; come on. You'd better come feet first—there's a bit of
a drop.""I'll go next," said Kathleen, and went—feet first, as
advised. The feet waved wildly in the air."Look out!" said Gerald in the dark; "you'll have my eye out.
Put your feetdown, girl, not
up. It's no use trying to fly here—there's no room."He helped her by pulling her feet forcibly down and then
lifting her under the arms. She felt rustling dry leaves under her
boots, and stood ready to receive Jimmy, who came in head first,
like one diving into an unknown sea."Itisa cave," said
Kathleen."The young explorers," explained Gerald, blocking up the hole
of entrance with his shoulders, "dazzled at first by the darkness
of the cave, could see nothing.""Darkness doesn't dazzle," said Jimmy."I wish we'd got a candle," said Kathleen."Yes, it does," Gerald contradicted—"could see nothing. But
their dauntless leader, whose eyes had grown used to the dark while
the clumsy forms of the others were bunging up the entrance, had
made a discovery."
JIMMY CAME IN HEAD FIRST, LIKE ONE DIVING INTO AN
UNKNOWN SEA.
"Oh, what!" Both the others were used to Gerald's way
of telling a story while he acted it, but they did sometimes wish
that he didn't talk quite so long and so like a book in moments of
excitement."He did not reveal the dread secret to his faithful followers
till one and all had given him their word of honour to be
calm.""We'll be calm all right," said Jimmy
impatiently."Well, then," said Gerald, ceasing suddenly to be a book and
becoming a boy, "there's a light over there—look behind
you!"They looked. And there was. A faint greyness on the brown
walls of the cave, and a brighter greyness cut off sharply by a
dark line, showed that round a turning or angle of the cave there
was daylight."Attention!" said Gerald; at least, that was what he meant,
though what he said was "'Shun!" as becomes the son of a soldier.
The others mechanically obeyed."You will remain at attention till I give the word 'Slow
march!' on which you will advance cautiously in open order,
following your hero leader, taking care not to tread on the dead
and wounded.""I wish you wouldn't!" said Kathleen."There aren't any," said Jimmy, feeling for her hand in the
dark; "he only means, take care not to tumble over stones and
things."Here he found her hand, and she screamed."It's only me," said Jimmy. "I thought you'd like me to hold
it. But you're just like a girl."Their eyes had now begun to get accustomed to the darkness,
and all could see that they were in a rough stone cave, that went
straight on for about three or four yards and then turned sharply
to the right."Death or victory!" remarked Gerald. "Now, then—Slow
march!"He advanced carefully, picking his way among the loose earth
and stones that were the floor of the cave. "A sail, a sail!" he
cried, as he turned the corner."How splendid!" Kathleen drew a long breath as she came out
into the sunshine."I don't see any sail," said Jimmy, following.The narrow passage ended in a round arch all fringed with
ferns and creepers. They passed through the arch into a deep,
narrow gully whose banks were of stones, moss-covered; and in the
crannies grew more ferns and long grasses. Trees growing on the top
of the bank arched across, and the sunlight came through in
changing patches of brightness, turning the gully to a roofed
corridor of goldy-green. The path, which was of greeny-grey
flagstones where heaps of leaves had drifted, sloped steeply down,
and at the end of it was another round arch, quite dark inside,
above which rose rocks and grass and bushes."It's like the outside of a railway tunnel," said
James."It's the entrance to the enchanted castle," said Kathleen.
"Let's blow the horns.""Dry up!" said Gerald. "The bold Captain, reproving the silly
chatter of his subordinates——""I like that!" said Jimmy, indignant."I thought you would," resumed Gerald—"of his subordinates,
bade them advance with caution and in silence, because after all
there might be somebody about, and the other arch might be an
ice-house or something dangerous.""What?" asked Kathleen anxiously."Bears, perhaps," said Gerald briefly."There aren't any bears without bars—in England, anyway,"
said Jimmy. "They call bears bars in America," he added
absently."Quick march!" was Gerald's only reply.And they marched. Under the drifted damp leaves the path was
firm and stony to their shuffling feet. At the dark arch they
stopped."There are steps down," said Jimmy."Itisan ice-house," said
Gerald."Don't let's," said Kathleen."Our hero," said Gerald, "who nothing could dismay, raised
the faltering hopes of his abject minions by saying that he was
jolly well going on, and they could do as they liked about
it.""If you call names," said Jimmy, "you can go on by yourself."
He added, "So there!"
"IT'S THE ENTRANCE TO THE ENCHANTED CASTLE," SAID
KATHLEEN.
"It's part of the game, silly," explained Gerald
kindly. "You can be Captain to-morrow, so you'd better hold your
jaw now, and begin to think about what names you'll call us when
it's your turn."Very slowly and carefully they went down the steps. A vaulted
stone arched over their heads. Gerald struck a match when the last
step was found to have no edge, and to be, in fact, the beginning
of a passage, turning to the left."This," said Jimmy, "will take us back into the
road.""Or under it," said Gerald. "We've come down eleven
steps."They went on, following their leader, who went very slowly
for fear, as he explained, of steps. The passage was very
dark."I don't half like it!" whispered Jimmy.Then came a glimmer of daylight that grew and grew, and
presently ended in another arch that looked out over a scene so
like a picture out of a book about Italy that every one's breath
was taken away, and they simply walked forward silent and staring.
A short avenue of cypresses led, widening as it went, to a marble
terrace that lay broad and white in the sunlight. The children,
blinking, leaned their arms on the broad, flat balustrade and
gazed. Immediately below them was a lake—just like a lake in "The
Beauties of Italy"—a lake with swans and an island and weeping
willows; beyond it were green slopes dotted with groves of trees,
and amid the trees gleamed the white limbs of statues. Against a
little hill to the left was a round white building with pillars,
and to the right a waterfall came tumbling down among mossy stones
to splash into the lake. Steps led from the terrace to the water,
and other steps to the green lawns beside it. Away across the
grassy slopes deer were feeding, and in the distance where the
groves of trees thickened into what looked almost a forest were
enormous shapes of grey stone, like nothing that the children had
ever seen before."That chap at school——" said Gerald."Itisan enchanted
castle," said Kathleen."I don't see any castle," said Jimmy."What do you call that, then?" Gerald pointed to where,
beyond a belt of lime-trees, white towers and turrets broke the
blue of the sky."There doesn't seem to be any one about," said Kathleen, "and
yet it's all so tidy. I believe it is magic.""Magic mowing machines," Jimmy suggested."If we were in a book it would be an enchanted castle—certain
to be," said Kathleen."Itisan enchanted
castle," said Gerald in hollow tones."But there aren't any." Jimmy was quite
positive."How do you know? Do you think there's nothing in the world
but whatyou'veseen?" His scorn
was crushing."I think magic went out when people began to have
steam-engines," Jimmy insisted, "and newspapers, and telephones and
wireless telegraphing.""Wireless is rather like magic when you come to think of it,"
said Gerald."Oh,thatsort!" Jimmy's
contempt was deep."Perhaps there's given up being magic because people didn't
believe in it any more," said Kathleen."Well, don't let's spoil the show with any silly old not
believing," said Gerald with decision. "I'm going to believe in
magic as hard as I can. This is an enchanted garden, and that's an
enchanted castle, and I'm jolly well going to explore. The
dauntless knight then led the way, leaving his ignorant squires to
follow or not, just as they jolly well chose." He rolled off the
balustrade and strode firmly down towards the lawn, his boots
making, as they went, a clatter full of determination.The others followed. There never was such a garden—out of a
picture or a fairy tale. They passed quite close by the deer, who
only raised their pretty heads to look, and did not seem startled
at all. And after a long stretch of turf they passed under the
heaped-up heavy masses of lime-trees and came into a rose-garden,
bordered with thick, close-cut yew hedges, and lying red and pink
and green and white in the sun, like a giant's many-coloured,
highly-scented pocket-handkerchief."I know we shall meet a gardener in a minute, and he'll ask
what we're doing here. And then what will you say?" Kathleen asked
with her nose in a rose.
"THIS IS AN ENCHANTED GARDEN AND THAT'S AN ENCHANTED
CASTLE."
"I shall say we've lost our way, and it will be quite
true," said Gerald.But they did not meet a gardener or anybody else, and the
feeling of magic got thicker and thicker, till they were almost
afraid of the sound of their feet in the great silent place. Beyond
the rose garden was a yew hedge with an arch cut in it, and it was
the beginning of a maze like the one in Hampton Court."Now," said Gerald, "you mark my words. In the middle of this
maze we shall find the secret enchantment. Draw your swords, my
merry men all, and hark forward tallyho in the utmost
silence."Which they did.It was very hot in the maze, between the close yew hedges,
and the way to the maze's heart was hidden well. Again and again
they found themselves at the black yew arch that opened on the rose
garden, and they were all glad that they had brought large, clean
pocket-handkerchiefs with them.It was when they found themselves there for the fourth time
that Jimmy suddenly cried, "Oh, I wish——" and then stopped short
very suddenly. "Oh!" he added in quite a different voice, "where's
the dinner?" And then in a stricken silence they all remembered
that the basket with the dinner had been left at the entrance of
the cave. Their thoughts dwelt fondly on the slices of cold mutton,
the six tomatoes, the bread and butter, the screwed-up paper of
salt, the apple turnovers, and the little thick glass that one
drank the gingerbeer out of."Let's go back," said Jimmy, "now this minute, and get our
things and have our dinner.""Let's have one more try at the maze. I hate giving things
up," said Gerald."Iamso hungry!" said
Jimmy."Why didn't you say so before?" asked Gerald
bitterly."I wasn't before.""Then you can't be now. You don't get hungry all in a minute.
What's that?""That" was a gleam of red that lay at the foot of the yew
hedge—a thin little line, that you would hardly have noticed unless
you had been staring in a fixed and angry way at the roots of the
hedge.It was a thread of cotton. Gerald picked it up. One end of it
was tied to a thimble with holes in it, and the
other——"Thereisno other end,"
said Gerald, with firm triumph. "It's a clue—that's what it is.
What price cold mutton now? I've always felt something magic would
happen some day, and now it has.""I expect the gardener put it there," said
Jimmy."With a Princess's silver thimble on it? Look! there's a
crown on the thimble."There was."Come," said Gerald in low, urgent tones, "if you are
adventurersbeadventurers; and
anyhow, I expect some one has gone along the road and bagged the
mutton hours ago."He walked forward, winding the red thread round his fingers
as he went. And itwasa clue,
and it led them right into the middle of the maze. And in the very
middle of the maze they came upon the wonder.The red clue led them up two stone steps to a round grass
plot. There was a sun-dial in the middle, and all round against the
yew hedge a low, wide marble seat. The red clue ran straight across
the grass and by the sun-dial, and ended in a small brown hand with
jewelled rings on every finger. The hand was, naturally, attached
to an arm, and that had many bracelets on it, sparkling with red
and blue and green stones. The arm wore a sleeve of pink and gold
brocaded silk, faded a little here and there but still extremely
imposing, and the sleeve was part of a dress, which was worn by a
lady who lay on the stone seat asleep in the sun. The rosy gold
dress fell open over an embroidered petticoat of a soft green
colour. There was old yellow lace the colour of scalded cream, and
a thin white veil spangled with silver stars covered the
face."It's the enchanted Princess," said Gerald, now really
impressed. "I told you so.""It's the Sleeping Beauty," said Kathleen. "It is—look how
old-fashioned her clothes are, like the pictures of Marie
Antoinette's ladies in the history book. She has slept for a
hundred years. Oh, Gerald, you're the eldest; you must be the
Prince, and we never knew it."
THE RED CLUE RAN STRAIGHT ACROSS THE GRASS AND BY THE
SUN-DIAL, AND ENDED IN A SMALL BROWN HAND.
"She isn't really a Princess," said Jimmy. But the
others laughed at him, partly because his saying things like that
was enough to spoil any game, and partly because they really were
not at all sure that it was not a Princess who lay there as still
as the sunshine. Every stage of the adventure—the cave, the
wonderful gardens, the maze, the clue, had deepened the feeling of
magic, till now Kathleen and Gerald were almost completely
bewitched."Lift the veil up, Jerry," said Kathleen in a whisper; "if
she isn't beautiful we shall know she can't be the
Princess.""Lift it yourself," said Gerald."I expect you're forbidden to touch the figures," said
Jimmy."It's not wax, silly," said his brother."No," said his sister, "wax wouldn't be much good in this
sun. And, besides, you can see her breathing. It's the Princess
right enough." She very gently lifted the edge of the veil and
turned it back. The Princess's face was small and white between
long plaits of black hair. Her nose was straight and her brows
finely traced. There were a few freckles on cheek-bones and
nose."No wonder," whispered Kathleen, "sleeping all these years in
all this sun!" Her mouth was not a rosebud. But all the
same—"Isn't she lovely!" Kathleen murmured."Not so dusty," Gerald was understood to reply."Now, Jerry," said Kathleen firmly, "you're the
eldest.""Of course I am," said Gerald uneasily."Well, you've got to wake the Princess.""She's not a Princess," said Jimmy, with his hands in the
pockets of his knickerbockers; "she's only a little girl dressed
up.""But she's in long dresses," urged Kathleen."Yes, but look what a little way down her frock her feet
come. She wouldn't be any taller than Jerry if she was to stand
up.""Now then," urged Kathleen. "Jerry, don't be silly. You've
got to do it.""Do what?" asked Gerald, kicking his left boot with his
right."Why, kiss her awake, of course.""Not me!" was Gerald's unhesitating rejoinder."Well, some one's got to.""She'd go for me as likely as not the minute she woke up,"
said Gerald anxiously."I'd do it like a shot," said Kathleen, "but I don't suppose
it ud make any difference me kissing her."She did it; and it didn't. The Princess still lay in deep
slumber."Then you must, Jimmy. I daresay you'll do. Jump back quickly
before she can hit you.""She won't hit him, he's such a little chap," said
Gerald."Little yourself!" said Jimmy. "Idon't mind kissing her. I'm not a
coward, like Some People. Only if I do, I'm going to be the
dauntless leader for the rest of the day."
THE THREE STOOD BREATHLESS, AWAITING THE
RESULT.
"No, look here—hold on!" cried Gerald, "perhaps I'd
better——" But, in the meantime, Jimmy had planted a loud,
cheerful-sounding kiss on the Princess's pale cheek, and now the
three stood breathless, awaiting the result.And the result was that the Princess opened large, dark eyes,
stretched out her arms, yawned a little, covering her mouth with a
small brown hand, and said, quite plainly and distinctly, and
without any room at all for mistake:—"Then the hundred years are over? How the yew hedges have
grown! Which of you is my Prince that aroused me from my deep sleep
of so many long years?""I did," said Jimmy fearlessly, for she did not look as
though she were going to slap any one."My noble preserver!" said the Princess, and held out her
hand. Jimmy shook it vigorously."But I say," said he, "you aren't really a Princess, are
you?""Of course I am," she answered; "who else could I be? Look at
my crown!" She pulled aside the spangled veil, and showed beneath
it a coronet of what even Jimmy could not help seeing to be
diamonds."But——" said Jimmy."Why," she said, opening her eyes very wide, "you must have
known about my being here, or you'd never have come. Howdidyou get past the
dragons?"Gerald ignored the question. "I say," he said, "do you really
believe in magic, and all that?""I ought to," she said, "if anybody does. Look, here's the
place where I pricked my finger with the spindle." She showed a
little scar on her wrist."Then this reallyisan
enchanted castle?""Of course it is," said the Princess. "How stupid you are!"
She stood up, and her pink brocaded dress lay in bright waves about
her feet."I said her dress would be too long," said
Jimmy."It was the right length when I went to sleep," said the
Princess; "it must have grown in the hundred years.""I don't believe you're a Princess at all," said Jimmy; "at
least——""Don't bother about believing it, if you don't like," said
the Princess. "It doesn't so much matter what you believe as what I
am." She turned to the others."Let's go back to the castle," she said, "and I'll show you
all my lovely jewels and things. Wouldn't you like
that?""Yes," said Gerald with very plain hesitation.
"But——""But what?" The Princess's tone was impatient."But we're most awfully hungry.""Oh, so am I!" cried the Princess."We've had nothing to eat since breakfast.""And it's three now," said the Princess, looking at the
sun-dial. "Why, you've had nothing to eat for hours and hours and
hours. But think of me! I haven't had anything to eat for a hundred
years. Come along to the castle.""The mice will have eaten everything," said Jimmy sadly. He
saw now that she reallywasa
Princess."Not they," cried the Princess joyously. "You forget
everything's enchanted here. Time simply stood still for a hundred
years. Come along, and one of you must carry my train, or I shan't
be able to move now it's grown such a frightful
length."
When you are young so many things are difficult to believe,
and yet the dullest people will tell you that they are true—such
things, for instance, as that the earth goes round the sun, and
that it is not flat but round. But the things that seem really
likely, like fairy-tales and magic, are, so say the grown-ups, not
true at all. Yet they are so easy to believe, especially when you
see them happening. And, as I am always telling you, the most
wonderful things happen to all sorts of people, only you never hear
about them because the people think that no one will believe their
stories, and so they don't tell them to any one except me. And they
tell me, because they know that I can believe anything.
When Jimmy had awakened the Sleeping Princess, and she had
invited the three children to go with her to her palace and get
something to eat, they all knew quite surely that they had come
into a place of magic happenings. And they walked in a slow
procession along the grass towards the castle. The Princess went
first, and Kathleen carried her shining train; then came Jimmy, and
Gerald came last. They were all quite sure that they had walked
right into the middle of a fairy tale, and they were the more ready
to believe it because they were so tired and hungry. They were, in
fact, so hungry and tired that they hardly noticed where they were
going, or observed the beauties of the formal gardens through which
the pink-silk Princess was leading them. They were in a sort of
dream, from which they only partially awakened to find themselves
in a big hall, with suits of armour and old flags round the walls,
the skins of beasts on the floor, and heavy oak tables and benches
ranged along it.
The Princess entered, slow and stately, but once inside she
twitched her sheeny train out of Jimmy's hand and turned to the
three.
"You just wait here a minute," she said, "and mind you don't
talk while I'm away. This castle is crammed with magic, and I don't
know what will happen if you talk." And with that, picking up the
thick goldy-pink folds under her arms, she ran out, as Jimmy said
afterwards, "most unprincesslike," showing as she ran black
stockings and black strap shoes.
Jimmy wanted very much to say that he didn't believe anything
would happen, only he was afraid something would happen if he did,
so he merely made a face and put out his tongue. The others
pretended not to see this, which was much more crushing than
anything they could have said. So they sat in silence, and Gerald
ground the heel of his boot upon the marble floor. Then the
Princess came back, very slowly and kicking her long skirts in
front of her at every step. She could not hold them up now because
of the tray she carried.
It was not a silver tray, as you might have expected, but an
oblong tin one. She set it down noisily on the end of the long
table and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh! itwasheavy," she
said. I don't know what fairy feast the children's fancy had been
busy with. Anyhow, this was nothing like it. The heavy tray held a
loaf of bread, a lump of cheese, and a brown jug of water. The rest
of its heaviness was just plates and mugs and knives.
"Come along," said the Princess hospitably. "I couldn't find
anything but bread and cheese—but it doesn't matter, because
everything's magic here, and unless you have some dreadful secret
fault the bread and cheese will turn into anything you like.
Whatwouldyou like?" she asked
Kathleen.
"Roast chicken," said Kathleen, without hesitation.
The pinky Princess cut a slice of bread and laid it on a
dish. "There you are," she said, "roast chicken. Shall I carve it,
or will you?"
"You, please," said Kathleen, and received a piece of dry
bread on a plate.
"Green peas?" asked the Princess, cut a piece of cheese and
laid it beside the bread.
Kathleen began to eat the bread, cutting it up with knife and
fork as you would eat chicken. It was no use owning that she didn't
see any chicken and peas, or anything but cheese and dry bread,
because that would be owning that she had some dreadful secret
fault.
"If I have, itisa
secret, even from me," she told herself.
The others asked for roast beef and cabbage—and got it, she
supposed, though to her it only looked like dry bread and Dutch
cheese.
"Idowonder what my
dreadful secret fault is," she thought, as the Princess remarked
that, as for her, she could fancy a slice of roast peacock. "This
one," she added, lifting a second mouthful of dry bread on her
fork, "is quite delicious."
"It's a game, isn't it?" asked Jimmy suddenly.
"What's a game?" asked the Princess, frowning.
"Pretending it's beef—the bread and cheese, I mean."
"A game? But itisbeef.
Look at it," said the Princess, opening her eyes very wide.
"Yes, of course," said Jimmy feebly. "I was only
joking."
"IT'S A GAME, ISN'T IT?" ASKED
JIMMY.
Bread and cheese is not perhaps so good as roast beef or
chicken or peacock (I'm not sure about the peacock. I never tasted
peacock, did you?); but bread and cheese is, at any rate, very much
better than nothing when you have gone on having nothing since
breakfast (gooseberries and gingerbeer hardly count) and it is long
past your proper dinner-time. Every one ate and drank and felt much
better.
"Now," said the Princess, brushing the breadcrumbs off her
green silk lap, "if you're sure you won't have any more meat you
can come and see my treasures. Sure you won't take the least bit
more chicken? No? Then follow me."
She got up and they followed her down the long hall to the
end where the great stone stairs ran up at each side and joined in
a broad flight leading to the gallery above. Under the stairs was a
hanging of tapestry.
"Beneath this arras," said the Princess, "is the door leading
to my private apartments." She held the tapestry up with both
hands, for it was heavy, and showed a little door that had been
hidden by it.
"The key," she said, "hangs above."
And so it did, on a large rusty nail.
"Put it in," said the Princess, "and turn it."